


Black Luck

by TarAmdira



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Best Friends to Lovers, Book 3: Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, Book 4: Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, Book 5: Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, Book 6: Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, Book 7: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Cross-Posted on Wattpad, Eventual Smut, Family Drama, Fluff and Angst, Fuck JK Rowling, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Jewish Characters, M/M, Magical Synesthesia, Regulus Black Lives, Sirius Black Lives, Synesthesia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2020-11-25
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:49:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27230752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TarAmdira/pseuds/TarAmdira
Summary: "We Blacks have the worst luck."Leo Black has known the Curse of House Black intimately — with his Uncle Sirius convicted of mass murder, his other Uncle Regulus mysteriously absent after having devoted himself to the Dark Lord and his mother, Corona Black, having fled to the States to be wrongly convicted of murder and locked up in a Magical Prison. As one of the youngest members of the family, Leo starts to fear his time to meet the Curse is nearing. But, Leo has been perfect so far, now including his new boyfriend, George Weasley, after years of having chased him. Things do start to get more complicated when his Uncle Sirius turns up at Hogwarts, claiming to kill someone.
Relationships: Fred Weasley/Hermione Granger, George Weasley/Original Male Character(s), Original Female Character(s)/Original Male Character(s), Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 3
Kudos: 14





	1. Part I: Once in a Lifetime

SUMMARY — posted on Wattpad (@/toujourspurs)

Leo firmly believes the Noble & Most Ancient House of Black is cursed. And with that he believes (see: _hopes_ ) the Curse of House Black skipped him: he hasn't been disowned yet (like Uncle Sirius), he hasn't fled to a different country and committed murder (like Mum), or been forced to take the Dark Mark and die lonely in a cave while reanimated corpses drag him down into muddy waters (like Uncle Regulus). Instead, Leo Black kind of... made it? He's popular at school, gets high grades, has a lot of friends, smells _amazing_ (like peaches!), has his own owl, and travels across Europe every summer with his mum. (Leo really wishes he could stay in Barcelona forever... but that's off the point.) Lots of girls have crushes on him, he's a beautiful boy. He always manages to humble the professors (yes, even good ole Snape) and he overall is just... perfect? It drives people crazy.

But the thing about Leo is... his perfection, as people like to describe it, has a downside. His surname always makes people a little wary around him, as one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, and this year especially as (surprise, surprise!) Uncle Sirius escapes from Azkaban and breaks into Hogwarts. Most of his classmates blame him for letting a murderer in the castle, while Leo didn't even know (or did know?) his uncle had broken out of prison until one night where Leo was hungry and went down to the kitchens when he ran into him. Now, the worst thing about this isn't even the fact that Uncle Sirius stopped to talk to him, but that none other than George Weasley — _Leo's new boyfriend_ — saw them.

Needless to say... Leo Black is out of luck.

CAST: 

Timothée Chalamet as Leo Black

Krysten Ritter as Corona Black

Benedict Cumberbatch as Mordecai Ollivander

Sydney Sweeney as Cleopatra Malfoy

Sophia Lillis as Lennon McGonagall

Maya Hawke as Monroe McGonagall

Emma Mackey as Demeter Thatcher

Margot Robbie as Aphrodite Thatcher

Emma Dumont as Edwina Riddle

Dacre Montgomery as Dean Sinclair

Janis Ancens as Finnbar Mulciber (belongs to @/bonjoursbelle on Wattpad)

Harry Potter characters as described


	2. Chapter One: Those Quiet Days

Leo can’t stand the silence.

On days like these, all Leo can hear is his own heartbeat creating quiet melodies in the vacant hallways of Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place. His fragmental thoughts and scattered ideas for paintings aren’t enough to keep him busy until his mom comes back from whatever mission the Order of the Phoenix had sent her on. Not even the grand piano, located on the dust border between the living room and the dining room, covered in music sheets signed _Regulus Arcturus Black_ , is enough to fill the empty silence hanging over the great London home. Not even the muttering of House Black’s very own house elf, Kreacher, is enough to distract Leo from what is and what isn’t, especially in times like these.

Leo’s quite used to silent days. His mom goes out to run errands for the Order a lot and his dad is busy helping his elderly father in the wand shop. Leo usually starts to talk to the portraits, but he doesn’t have much to tell them. He likes Grandma Walburga’s portrait because she’s nice to him, talks to him about the past, compliments his looks and praises his music and art. He can _usually_ entertain himself.

But today seems much, much quieter than normal.

It’s a hot summer day in London and Leo already spent most of the morning reading in the sun in the garden. Mom had been gone since the day before, when she left in a rush, only managing to chastely kiss his head before rushing out the door in a leather jacket. Luckily, the garden is quiet and peaceful. The _Daily Prophet_ lay next to him, displaying a torturous face screaming into the magical camera: Azkaban’s first ever escapee. _Sirius Black_.

Mom’s brother.

Leo has never seen his mother as upset as she had been while reading the week-old news article and she insisted they keep the scrap with Uncle Sirius’s face on it. Every bit of handsomeness that his slate once possessed, had been slimmed down to the ghoulish appearance he has now: hollowed cheeks, long, gangly hair and a hollowed chest littered with tattoos. Leo thinks he’s quite enigmatic and tragic, it makes his heart ache for him.

But Leo’s not one to dwell on things that make him sad.

With a swift movement, he turns the ripped page over, shielding Sirius’ face from the world. He sighs deeply and lets himself fall back in the chair, shutting his eyes. The sun burns his cheeks, his lips, his nose, but Leo enjoys that feeling. The early morning is quiet, though Leo hears some of his muggle-neighbours scurry around in their houses and gardens, as well as twittering birds in the trees and buzzing, busy little bees floating around from flower to flower. He hears a lawnmower or two and some cars outside, as well as gentle laughter and rumbling voices speaking in illegible tones. He listens to sounds of daily lives as he watches the striking blue sky overhead, tucking his hands under his head while he lies back on the chair, his book on his chest and a cigarette between his lips.

Lately, he’s been more on his own than the years before. After Mom took him to Barcelona, he’d been stuck in Grimmauld Place for the remaining three weeks. So far, he’d read most books in the bookcase in the living room (most which were about the importance of blood purity, old pureblood families, the Renaissance, the French Revolution and other subjects that are important to the Black family history), composed a dozen melodies for the piano (all unfinished) and got annoyed at the doxies in the curtains (who blew raspberry at him when he played a false note). He hates the fact that he’s still not seventeen, or he would’ve de-doxied the curtains with magic. But the most annoying thing, albeit the most _difficult_ thing, are the boggarts lurking around in every corner.

Leo’s easily scared and he’s not afraid to admit it. He’s scared of a quite few many things, like large dogs, drowning, people not believing him… Mostly the boggarts take the shape of monstrous black dogs. But Leo’s learned to just slam the concerning door closed and run away in the opposite direction, which works, for the most part.

Now, however, most boggarts have been expelled from the house. Leo can calmly grab his hidden pack of muggle cigarettes (one he stole from Mom) and smoke a fag or two anywhere around the house, without being attacked by a boggart. Like he absentmindedly smokes now, in broad daylight, in the large yet narrow garden of Grimmauld Place.

The quiet day, for the first time in over twenty-seven hours, doesn’t weigh too heavily on him. It’s a moment he’s got alone with himself and nature, as the days before were cloudy and rainy and made Leo paint in only shades of grey. He takes a moment to think about his return to Hogwarts, where more measures would be taken to ensure Harry Potter’s safety around Uncle Sirius’ escape. Like Uncle Sirius could ever be a Death Eater…

Inside the house, where noises arise, Kreacher works on keeping most of the house clean while he hums gentle melodies Leo played not over an hour ago. He’s an old house elf, but useful and, if you know him, quite able to do favours for you. But maybe that’s mostly because Kreacher calls Leo “Master Regulus”, because in the old, bloodshot eyes of the house elf, Leo is the mirror image of his Uncle Regulus. Grandma Walburga said the same thing, but when Leo looks at pictures of Uncle Regulus, he doesn’t see it: Uncle Regulus has grey eyes, where Leo inherited his Dad’s green ones, and Uncle Regulus has a heavier set jaw than Leo. He doesn’t enjoy looking at the stiff pictures of the Black family, so whenever he does, it’s when he walks by them. The grim history of House Black (and its curse) isn’t something Leo likes to think about for longer than a minute.

Leo finishes his cigarette and presses it flat on the ashtray on the armrest of his chair before standing up, taking his book in hand and walking back inside the house. He can’t stand the silence, so he needs to make some noise.

As he takes his trusty seat behind the grand piano, he picks up one of Uncle Regulus’ compositions and sets it in front of him neatly. His own compositions lay messily in a pile on the stand. From the corner of his eye he can see Kreacher carrying old, dirty rags of clothing, feverishly muttering to himself about mudbloods and blood traitors. Leo smiles bitterly to himself, somehow endeared by the old, grumpy house elf, and positions his long, agile fingers over the black and white keys. Soon after, the empty house fills itself with music and singing and the entirety of the living room seems to swell as Leo sees shades of pale blue, light orange, and baby pink float past him. The music is honey to his ears, a gentle curly summer melody that Leo loves to play whenever he feels down. It cheers him up, but he abruptly stops when someone enters the room with a bitter expression. He hears Grandma Walburga shout about werewolves and how they taint wizardkind.

A shabby-looking man with patched clothing and greying hair smiles brightly at Leo. He has scars cutting across his face. “Hello,” he says hoarsely, speaking in shining amber and striking grey of a thundercloud, “You’re Leo, right?”

“Uh, yeah,” says Leo, though uncertain if he’s supposed to know this man. He clears his throat. “And you are?”

“Merlin, you sound exactly like your mother. _American_.” He lets out a small laugh and casts his eyes down. “I’m Remus Lupin. Member of the Order. Dumbledore sent me here.”

“What for?”

Remus takes off his coat and drapes it over the back of a large armchair. “Your mum didn’t tell you? I’m waiting here for Sirius. We need to give him shelter, he can’t stay out on the streets on his own.”

Leo’s jaw drops. “Uncle Sirius is coming here? I thought he was hunted by the Ministry.”

“He needs a safehouse, of course. Even though he hates coming back here and he swore he’d be dead before taking one more step in this Merlin-awful house.” Remus looks around for a little, from the door (behind which Grandma Walburga is still screaming her head off) to the living room and the fallen couch. “I can understand why.”

“Yeah, it’ a hellhole.” Leo looks past Remus, into the hall. “Hang on, Grandma’s still yelling at you.”

Leo stands up from his seat behind the piano and walks to the hall, past Remus, who looks at him with a sort of sadness bordering on happiness in his eyes. He sighs deeply and goes to stand on the staircase, where he’s on eye level with the oil-paint version of his grandmother.

“Grandma, can you stop screaming?” he asks.

“— BLOOD TRAITORS! FILTHY ANIMALS! MUDBLOODS! SHAME ON MY WORTHLESS DAUGHTER FOR LETTING A BLOODY WEREWOLF INTO MY HOME — _MY_ HOME!”

Leo cringes. “Grandma, it’s me. Can you stop screaming?”

“— FILTHY HALF-BLOODS! STAINS OF DISGRACE! FREAKS! SCUM! I SWEAR IF I WAS THERE NONE OF THOSE MUDBLOODS WOULD COME INTO MY HOUSE! OVER MY _DEAD BODY_!”

“Grandma, just go to sleep,” says Leo through gritted teeth, hoping that Remus wouldn’t take the insults too personally. He shuts the curtain in front of her portrait and walks back to the living room, where Remus leans against one of the many bookcases with his hands rubbed together. He looks like he wants to take a seat. “Sorry.”

“Oh, no,” says Remus with a smile, “No need to apologise. I knew this would happen. Walburga never really liked outsiders, did she?”

Leo’s tone is bittersweet. “She didn’t even like her own family.”

“Ah, I’ve heard.” Remus takes the dusty armchair directly opposite Leo. “Sirius loved to complain about her, and so did your mother. She was a year below us, but brilliant.”

“You’re talking about me like I’m dead, Remus,” says a voice from behind Leo. He snaps his head around and sees three figures standing in the door: Mom, Dad, and a large black dog that sends shivers down Leo’s spine. Mom carries a smile on her face, which is disgraced by one black eye, Dad looks more disheveled than normal, and the dog slowly turns back into a human: Sirius Black.

“Good to see you, Corona, Mordecai!” shouts Remus, walking towards them to greet them properly. He hugs Mom and gives Dad a polite handshake. Then, he grabs Sirius by his shoulders and half-carries, half-drags him to the couch.

Leo’s so taken aback by the strange sight that he startles when Mom grabs his shoulder and pulls him into a hug. Her neck smells like sweat and it tastes like metal, while the familiar navy and gold grace his ears as she speaks. She asks him if he’s okay, if he entertained himself when she was gone, and then asks about Kreacher.

“Kreacher never gives me trouble, Mom,” he says. “He quite likes me.”

“He’s too old to stay here but I can’t give him clothes,” Mom sighs. “He knows too much about this family to be set free.”

Mom has widely expressed her distrust and disgust of Kreacher. It gives her voice a maroon edge and makes her lips turn down a little, like she’s trying not to say anything about the old house-elf. Dad, however, likes the cranky old thing and often thanks him for the service. Mom rolls her eyes at that.

While Mom and Dad certainly act like a married couple, they aren’t. After Mom’s imprisonment at sixteen (and her pregnancy at seventeen) with the extra difficulties concerning the Ministry of Magic and Dad’s duties at the wand shop, they just… haven’t had the time for it? Leo doesn’t mind, except for when they act like teens in love.

Her dark eyes shoot towards the couch when Sirius starts to cough. Leo follows her gaze curiously, frowning when he sees Remus trying to force water down his throat. While she profusely swears under her breath, Leo faces Dad.

Under his dark curls, his opalescent green eyes sparkle with kindness. Dad always reminds Leo of grassy green hilltops in spring, with yellow buttercups. He’s gentle, good to the core, and exactly Mom’s opposite. Where Mom’s face usually portrays an icy seriousness, Dad always lights up the room with his smiles.

“Have fun on your own, Elio?” Dad asks, smiling lightly.

 _Elio_. Leo’s chest swells when he hears the name Dad gave him. It’s Italian, honouring Dad’s ethnicity, meaning _the sun god_. Mom wanted to honour the Black tradition of naming the kids after constellations, so they settled on Leo. He nods quickly, explaining everything about his stay alone in full detail — except for the cigarettes. He explains Dad literally everything about the summery piece of music he played when Remus came in, even to the last note.

“—I just wish Mom would’ve let me bring May,” he says while gingerly taking the seat next to a sleeping Uncle Sirius, whose head lays in Remus’ lap. May’s Leo’s acoustic guitar which still lays in their old apartment, named after Brian May; you know, from that muggle band Queen… “I think Kreacher and Grandma’s portrait would’ve liked the change of sound. Mostly because I dislike it when Grandma starts crying over a piano piece. And Kreacher has cried a few times too, muttering about Uncle Regulus.”

“Your uncle Regulus loved playing piano,” says Mom absently. She talks in a soft tone, trying not to wake Sirius. “He was _her_ golden boy. She hated Sirius and I.”

Mom crosses her arms over her chest, chewing her lip in thought. She has her eyes, dark as night, fixed on Sirius’ sleeping face. Leo knows that Mom missed her brother more than anyone could have imagined, but he also knows that when he wakes up, Sirius won’t be spared of one of her famous lectures. Dad can’t escape them, Remus probably can’t escape them, Grandma’s portrait can’t escape them and Leo _certainly_ can’t escape them — but he can’t imagine how horrible the lecture is that awaits Sirius. He means, escaping Azkaban isn’t exactly a thing to take lightly.

Remus talks about his new job at Hogwarts as the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. While he talks, Leo notices his voice is now very honey-like, bronze with a hint of platinum, and it becomes more of a rose gold when he strokes a gangly, greasy lock of hair out of Sirius’ face. The thundercloud from before left his voice. The corners of his mouth curl up just a little. Leo’s quite excited about having Remus as his teacher now, as the last few weren’t exactly the best.

Leo’s had a swell time at Hogwarts, but he never got along with his Defence Against the Dark Arts teachers much. (Of course, the teachers liked him, but everyone likes him…) He couldn’t get along with Professor Quirrell, whose stutter seemed to get only worse when Leo was in the room; Professor Lockhart thought Leo liked have fame to his name because his uncle is (correction: was) in prison; and the professors before that… Leo had to admit he never got on with them as well, though he quite liked Professor Thatcher in his first year, who is now the Arts teacher. He hopes that Remus will be better than the lot of them, though he’s worried about his werewolf condition.

When it’s time for dinner, the bunch of them gather in the kitchen, at the large table. Uncle Sirius has woken up, looking all kinds of horrible, eating without any manners when Kreacher brings him his plate of food. The house-elf mumbles about “Master Sirius possibly acquired less etiquette in Azkaban” and Sirius glares at him while holding his knife so tightly his knuckles turn white. The hot-red of Uncle Sirius’ rage makes Leo drop his fork at the sudden intensity of it. Leo finishes before anyone else and without saying anything to the others, he takes his seat behind the piano and plays the summer piece in full.

“That’s wonderful, Leo!” exclaims Remus, clapping his hands. His eyes twinkle in delight.

They all praise him (Uncle Sirius a little quieter than the rest, maybe) and ask him to play other pieces. Remus is the fastest, asking for Moonlight Sonata by Beethoven. A grey piece, lined with velvet blue. It’s grim and reminds Leo of a dark and stormy day, which is exactly how Uncle Sirius looks. Leo speculates that’s why Remus wants to hear it.

When Leo increases the tempo of the song, Remus looks at Sirius with a worried frown, before he stands up and bids them goodbye. It looks like it pains him to do so. He waves Leo goodbye as well, before stepping outside and Disapparating.

“Where’d Remus go?” Uncle Sirius asks, bringing his head up from the table. He’d dozed off when Remus left, Leo reckons.

“He left,” says Mom with a clipped voice. She chews on her lip again and doesn’t look Uncle Sirius in the eye.

“Oh,” is all he says before he dozes off on the table again.

Leo continues to play all of his parents’ favourites before Mom announces it’s time for bed. He doesn’t mind much, honestly. He’s tired from the eventful day.

But, at least it’s not quiet anymore.


	3. Chapter Two: Bello Elio

Leo finds it curious that Uncle Sirius looks so… _normal_.

He notices this at breakfast, the day after he arrived. Uncle Sirius sits at the breakfast table and consumes incredible amounts of chocolate (most likely under Remus’ instruction), but that (and his wilderman’s appearance) is the only strange aspect about him. And perhaps his wide-eyed, wary expression that sends out the smell of brick and dust, accompanied by purple clouds and orange streaks of sunlight. (Uncle Sirius is worried.)

But while Uncle Sirius looks a bit more like the muggle _goths_ , as Leo thinks they’re called, he comes across as very normal, from the way he talks to the movements of his gaunt fingers.

Mom sits at the dinner table with a scowl on her face, mindlessly staring at Uncle Sirius as he continues to eat his toast with chocolate spread and drinks his hot chocolate while Dad reads the _Daily Prophet_ . Mom _was_ reading the _Quibbler_ , but stopped as soon as Uncle Sirius joined them with breakfast. She keeps staring at him like he’s still committing horrible crimes, while all he does is eat toast like a starving man.

Leo drops his gaze to his cup of coffee, where a self-stirring spoon mixes the sugar he added. He’d already eaten his toast (with eggs and bacon! Mom made it for him and it was delicious) and now watches the scene unfold at the breakfast table.

Mom’s near-continuous huffing makes Uncle Sirius roll his eyes in annoyance. For a time, this goes on fine, with only a few frowns from Uncle Sirius and amused chuckles from Dad. Leo can feel Mom getting angrier and more frustrated the louder Uncle Sirius starts to chew on his toast. Leo reckons this is what siblings do and grins like Dad did. He just hopes no one notices.

But then Mom starts to talk.

(Bad idea.)

“How did you escape, Sirius? How did you get past the Dementors?” she demands. Anger burns up in her voice like a wildfire. It completely changes the vibrato in her voice and makes the silver lining burns brighter. So much that it almost hurts Leo to look at her.

Uncle Sirius knits his eyebrows together in confusion and puts his cup down. He stays silent for a moment and shakes his long, knotty hair from his eyes. Then, he says, with the most casual voice, “I followed your example, sister dear.”

 _Uh-oh_. Leo knows Mom got out of her American prison by escaping; slipping past the guards, stealing a wand and hexing all personnel three ways to Sunday. With a nifty bit of Transfiguration, she managed to disguise herself as a muggle and run away to Brooklyn, New York, where she came across Dad. It’s a bit of a sore spot for Mom to talk about, especially since it defines her life in the eyes of the Ministry, who only reluctantly let her come back to England after giving birth to Leo. Also because, you know… being locked up in a magical prison isn’t the best way to spend your time.

“Excuse me?” Mom asks. Her face turns red, from her neck up to her cheeks. Her voice is sharper, as are the lines around her mouth and eyes. Dad lowers the _Daily Prophet_ , a nervous expression on his face that dampens the flowers growing in his chest. Leo catches his eye and they both know that Mom is about to give one of her legendary lectures.

Uncle Sirius leans forward and puts his toast down on the plate in front of him. “I said, I followed you example. Did you become deaf when I was away?”

“No, I didn’t. You did get an Azkaban patient, _Sirius_.” Mom crosses her arms over her chest. “You did try to kill Peter, you know. You actually belong there.”

Uncle Sirius’ cheeks become just as red as Mom’s. “Do I have to _remind_ you that Peter is the reason James and Lily are dead?”

“O-kay,” says Dad, quickly getting up and dragging Leo along with him when Mom was about to retort. Dad looks incredibly nervous throughout their ascend of the stairs, his light green concern illuminating the stairwell. Once they’re upstairs, in Leo’s bedroom, he says, “You’ve heard enough.”

“I don’t understand, Dad,” says Leo. “What did Uncle Sirius do? What did Peter Pettigrew do?”

Dad looks pained. “You know too much about the Order already, Leo. You’re not even supposed to know it even exists!” He rubs his face and sits down on Leo’s bed; the swirls of purple and orange completely take over the space above Dad’s head. It’s not just concern now: it’s worry and panic. “Leo, I really, really need you to swear to me you won’t tell anyone. At Hogwarts… everyone will try to ask you about Uncle Sirius because you’re a Black. I beg you not to say anything or you put everyone in danger. Please, _please_ act like you didn’t know. Please, Elio.”

Leo frowns. Dad never begs, not for anything, but this… Leo knows that it’s absolutely important. The consequences of the Ministry finding out Sirius Black is hidden by the famed wandmaker's son in London are dire and he doesn’t want Dad to look the same as Uncle Sirius does now. He nods curtly. “I promise, Dad.”

“Okay, good boy.” Dad gets up and hugs him lightly, pressing his nose in Leo’s hair. “Good boy.”

From downstairs, the two of them can hear Mom yell, “I don’t even know what to say right now!”, but despite not knowing what to say to Uncle Sirius, Mom yells at him for an hour straight.

—

Two weeks later and Leo finds that he starts to prefer silence in Grimmauld Place.

A day doesn’t go by without Mom screaming at Uncle Sirius for something insignificant, which sets off Grandma Walburga’s portrait on the wall, which sets off the other portraits, which leads to Dad sending Leo out of the room again as the things Mom screams at Uncle Sirius, and the ones Uncle Sirius screams at Mom, mostly contain important business for the Order — which Leo isn’t supposed to know about, but being oblivious gets kind of difficult when more and more members start to visit Grimmauld Place.

Leo, so far, has met Dedalus Diggle (a funky little man with a funny hat), Remus (again), Sturgis Podmore (an Unspeakable from the Department of Mysteries in the Ministry of Magic), Valentine Morningstar (a twenty-year-old Charms student), Dean Sinclair (a twenty-two-year-old American Care of Magical Creatures student) and the newest, who was announced to drop by today, Edwina Riddle (a nineteen-year-old D.A.D.A. student), who is rumoured to be the daughter of You-Know-Who himself.

The thing that stands out in this group is that most of these Order members are young — they’re just students at the Crann Bethadh Academy of Advanced Magic in Ireland. Studying to be teachers, experts on certain subjects. Leo’s always been looking at the Magical Arts and Crafts, this spiking his interest just a little more than Divination and Care of Magical Creatures. He talked in great detail about the Charms curriculum with Valentine, whose ambitions were even louder than their voice. Dean was much quieter, only humbly talking about the course he took about dragons.

But Edwina Riddle — she’s an entirely different story.

She arrives at Grimmauld Place in ripped jeans and a Nirvana tee. Her hair is bright green, accompanied by her dark red lipstick and heavy eyeliner. The second she arrives, Grandma Walburga doesn’t scream at her like she does with everyone else, but compliments her — even if Edwina looks so non-traditional. Leo thinks it’s got to do with her name, her heritage (Grandma Walburga and Grandpa Orion had great respect for You-Know-Who’s strife to blood purity), but she proves to be the exact opposite of that from the second Leo meets her, she tells him that she’s got an elaborate plan to kill her dad, _The Dark Lord_ , if he ever comes back. She speaks about him with such hatred that Leo has to shut his eyes to keep the fiery flames of blood red from overwhelming him. Besides that, however, Leo thinks it's highly amusing that Edwina calls the Dark Lord “Tom”, like he’s just an acquaintance.

She’s here to drop off some stuff for the Order, she tells him. Some things to make life easier, with the love from Valentine to Mom. They’re not meant for Leo’s eyes, so she unpacks the things with Mom and Dad, while Leo and Uncle Sirius sit in the living room. Leo’s behind the piano again, playing simple notes while he tries to ignore Uncle Sirius’ staring, but it proves to be quite difficult as Uncle Sirius gets closer.

“You look so much like him. Like Regulus,” he whispers. Leo glances up from the music sheets and meets Uncle Sirius’ eyes. They’re glassy and filled to the brim with tears, spreading the melancholic shades of blue and a tinge of green through the room. The silver lining has returned around Uncle Sirius’ voice.

“I’ve heard that a lot,” he replies, keeping his voice gentle and low. “Grandma Walburga and Kreacher have already told me. Mom reminds me every other week or so. Dad never says anything about it, but I know he thinks the same. Remus told me too.”

Uncle Sirius takes a deep breath and lets out a strangled sob — he’s trying to hold himself together. The waves crashing against the shore of Uncle Sirius’ eyes are grand, filled with sadness and longing. Leo knows how much Uncle Sirius misses his brother, but he’s not good with other people’s feelings. Touching them mostly makes the colours worse — but he can’t let Uncle Sirius stand there, crying.

“Uncle Sirius,” he says. He walks around the piano with a quick pace and hugs Uncle Sirius, who _really_ starts sobbing. With the touch of his hand on any part of his uncle’s body, an explosion of red, gold, silver, clouded in a mist of blue melancholia, erupts from his skin. Uncle Sirius pulls him close, a man starved of touch, and sobs in Leo’s shoulder. Leo wraps his arms around him and hugs back, trying not to wince at the explosions of colour. “Please don’t cry.”

Uncle Sirius takes a shaky breath. “I just miss him.”

Leo stays quiet for a little. Uncle Sirius pulls back from the hug and kneels down slightly. He puts his hands on either side of Leo’s face and smiles through his tears. Uncle Sirius now spreads out a soft pink, accompanied by his usual maroon red. Leo can’t quite pinpoint what it is.

“You’re just like him,” says Uncle Sirius. His eyes are red. “Not just your looks. He loved music too.” Uncle Sirius’ thumbs rub under his eyes. “Except for your eyes. You have your father’s eyes.”

“Merlin’s beard, Sirius!” shouts Mom’s voice from the door. “I sure as _hell_ hope you’re not bothering my son!”

She looks positively angry, with red cheeks. She’s accompanied by Edwina, who has a gentle smirk on her lips. Edwina walks to Uncle Sirius, who lets him go, and whispers something in his ear that makes Uncle Sirius turn as white as a sheet. He looks at Mom, who gestures to the door with her head. She’s got her arms crossed over her chest.

“Leo, I have to go,” says Uncle Sirius. His chalky white voice is strange and vacant. “I have to go. You’ll see me next summer.”

As Leo nods in response, Uncle Sirius takes his wand and transforms himself back to the large black dog. Leo swallows thickly, trying not to show that he’s actually quite scared. He watches Uncle Sirius’ tail disappear outside the door and then Mom turns to him.

“He has to go into hiding,” she says. She sounds tired. “Edwina came back with information from the Ministry. They’ve even informed the muggles. She has to go too now. Your Dad will be back from Diagon Alley soon with your supplies.”

Leo doesn’t understand what’s going on. Sure, Uncle Sirius is a wanted criminal, Mom’s one too, but he doesn’t understand why Uncle Sirius has to leave. He’s perfectly safe in Grimmauld Place, right? The home’s not exactly friendly, warm, or welcoming, but it’s Unplottable and protected by all of Grandpa Orion’s spellwork. He takes his seat behind the piano again when Edwina approaches him with something drifting in the air behind her.

“Your Mum said you asked for it,” she says with a smile. She’s quite diabolical; Leo can’t pinpoint a colour to her voice, her manners, her emotions. She holds out a simple acoustic guitar to him. “She said you were getting tired of the piano.”

With a wink, she disappears behind the door.

Leo looks down at the guitar and notices that it’s May. Edwina must’ve gotten it from Mom’s apartment… but when did she do that? Leo really decides not to question it and takes one of the old, mothy bedspreads from the couch and makes up a nice little corner of the living room for himself.

He spends all afternoon playing the guitar while Kreacher watches from a safe distance. The sound is entirely different from the classic grand piano: Leo thinks of May as a warmer instrument, with an internal sun, which sends out warmer tones of pink and orange as opposed to the piano. The summer piece had become one of his favourites in the holidays and playing it on the guitar isn’t as difficult as one might think it is. Leo likes to think that no piece of music is written for one instrument only; it’s much more versatile than that. Just like people, they’re not meant for one thing only.

Dad comes back later in the day with a messy head of hair and a bag full of wand bases and books for Leo. All he needs is there. On Dad’s shoulder sits Leo’s barn owl, whom he cleverly named Batman — after the muggle comics. Leo’s pretty sure Bruce Wayne was his first ever crush, if he’s allowed to say. He’s been reading Mom’s stack of the old comics since he was really young. Mom told him she got them from America.

“You brought Batman!” exclaims Leo as he takes the owl from Dad’s shoulder. Batman has been helping Grandpa Garrick all summer for deliveries and orders of dragon heartstring, unicorn tails and phoenix feathers. Leo affectionately strokes over the feathers above Batman’s beak. “Did you have fun at Grandpa’s?”

Batman silently hoots at him before he spreads his wings and flies off to the kitchen, where the most mice hide. Leo smiles at his silhouette and then turns to Dad. He smiles at Leo, gently kissing his head as he sets down the heavy bag. Leo notices something is off about Dad, from the way his smile doesn’t fully reach his eyes to the simple greeting. Dad normally hugs him.

“Everything okay with Grandpa?” he asks. He lets a beat pass. “ _Stai bene, papa?_ ” (Are you okay, Dad?)

“Yes, Grandpa is alright.” Dad clears his throat and forces a smile. “He’s asked me to try and find faeries in the Forbidden Forest. They shed their wings every so often and Dad wants to experiment with their use as a wand core. He’s got a few theories on it. He wants to expand his range. As for me…” He takes a deep breath, “…Grandpa told me your Aunt Seraphina’s body has been found.”

It’s like the whole room suddenly grows cold, despite it being a warm August afternoon. Leo’s heart feels like it’s on the floor: Aunt Seraphina was killed by Death Eaters when Leo was three years old. She was tortured until she died, after which her body was hidden somewhere. It’s been thirteen years since that happened, but Dad never really recovered from it. Now that her body has been found… Leo doesn’t even want to know what kind of storm of sadness rages through Dad. He knows it’s quite a heavy one: he can see the thunder in his eyes.

Leo doesn’t know what to say, but luckily, he doesn’t have to. Dad gets Leo’s school books to his room with a simple wave of his wand and with another quick kiss on his curls, Dad leaves the room.

In a few days he’ll be back at Hogwarts. He just keeps thinking about that when he takes May to his room, takes out his acrylic paints and creates a picture in honour of Aunt Seraphina on the glossed wood.

—

King’s Cross Station is one of Leo’s least favourite places. The bright, blinding neon yellow of anxiety, the orange shade of worry and hurrying always cloud his eyes more than anywhere else. The last few years, the colours just got worse, which leads Leo to remember he has to go to St. Mungo’s in the Christmas Holidays for a checkup. He hates the checkups; the healers mean well, but they mostly treat him like some experiment gone wrong somewhere, when this is just who Leo is.

To ground himself, he keeps close to Mom and makes sure she touches some part of him. She has her hand on his shoulder. Her navy blue and gold mostly clear his vision, but it’s still difficult to see. He pushes his trolley forward, keeping Batman steady in his cage with one hand.

“Be sure to write, okay?” says Mom, leading him to the gate between platforms 9 and 10. “If there’s any trace of Uncle Sirius, you _have_ to inform me. I’ll have a word with him if he breaks Dumbledore’s rules. He’ll be sure to follow them when I’m done with him.”

Leo laughs. “Sure, Mom. I’ll write every week if you want me to.”

Dad snorts. “That’s not necessary, I think. I’ll be staying at Hogwarts too, so you have me.”

Mom pulls Dad closer by his collar. “I’m just telling _my son_ that I’d like to know if he’s still alive or not. We don’t want the same panic as last year, do we?”

“But that wasn’t my fault!” Leo exclaims. “Batman thought he needed to deliver my letters to Grandpa, so I corresponded with him. In my defence, I thought he’d tell you!”

They pass through the gate, without breaking their argument.

“He didn’t! Your Dad even visited Grandpa a few times and he didn’t say a word about it!”

Dad cringes. “Surely, it was all in good fun?”

Leo pushes his trolley to one of the doors of the bright red Hogwarts Express. “Grandpa told me loads of things about wandmaking. I really like the job! I’m thinking about making that my career.”

“A noble career!” says Dad, beaming like the sun. “You’re following in your Grandpa’s footsteps. I couldn’t be prouder! The job of wandmaking was never laid out for me. Too precise, in my opinion. I don’t have the patience to carve the details in the wood.”

Leo smiles to himself while he hoists his trunk inside the train. It’s a bit early, but Mom and Dad want to make sure Leo doesn’t get too overwhelmed on the platform. Better safe than sorry, Mom always says. He puts Batman’s cage on top of the trunk and takes May in its bag and swings it over his shoulder. Then, he turns back around to look at Mom and Dad.

Mom looks a little softer than normal; the harsh lines around her mouth and eyebrows are muted, just like the sharp daggers in her voice. She always gets a bit softer when Leo’s about to leave for Hogwarts and he’s pretty sure she cried nearly every time he left. Her lips move like she wants to say something, but before she can, she grabs Leo by his shoulders and hugs him close.

“I’m serious, Leo, I want you to write to me sometimes,” she says. She pulls back and looks him in the eyes with her dark ones. The ones she shares with Grandpa Orion. Leo noticed that when he found his portrait in Grimmauld Place. “I’ll be there for you, darling.”

“ _Je t’aime, maman_ ,” he says, lightly kissing her cheek.

Mom looks completely endeared. “ _Je t’aime aussi, mon chéri_.” She kisses his cheek too before she steps back. “We’ll be spending Christmas at the Burrow.”

“Hanukkah, Mom.”

She runs a hand through his hair and rolls her eyes. “Your Dad has too much influence on you.”

“Hey!”

“I was joking, darling.”

Dad mixes himself in the conversation. “At least he wants to practise my religion.” This earns him a filthy look from Mom. “I’m kidding! Rona, my love, please let me say goodbye to my son?”

Mom kisses him one more time and then steps aside, muttering a few curses in French under her breath. Leo laughs softly at this.

“ _Bello_ Elio,” Dad sighs. He smiles broadly and Leo can see that his eyes are still a bit puffy and red from crying. “Have fun at school this year. Behave, study hard… Oh, what am I saying? You’ll pass all your Owls without any effort! My beautiful boy.”

Dad hugs him too, pressing a kiss to his temple before he pulls back and smiles again. Leo waves at his parents before he drags his trunk with him to an empty compartment.

He’s rather excited for this year; mostly because Remus will be teaching D.A.D.A. and he feels something big coming up. Something really exciting and special.


	4. Chapter Three:

Leo likes watching the British landscape change into the Scottish landscape. It’s peaceful, even though his Ravenclaw friends are chattering endlessly about their summers.

Lan Zhao Chang, a pretty Chinese girl from his year, talks to her friend, Marietta Edgecombe, about how Cedric Diggory and she corresponded nearly the entire summer. A combination of love letters, shameless flirting, bird bites, and doodled hearts in the corner of the parchment. Zhao Chang’s cheeks turn red and Marietta laughs, while the compartment fills itself with rosy pink, blurred hearts and roses start to grow in Zhao Chang’s chest. Then it’s Marietta’s turn to talk about who she corresponded with in the summer, and despite her efforts to hide the same pink and red hearts and roses in her chest, they appear when she mentions Alicia Spinnet’s name.

“She’s just  _ so _ nice! She complimented me on every picture I sent—”

“Cedric gave me the best present for my birthday, Mari, you’d be jealous if you knew!”

“—And she taught me much about Quidditch, but I never really liked the sport, you know? I might come to the games now…”

“Meaning you never came to mine, Mari? How shocking! And for  _ Gryffindor _ , no less!” Marietta rolls her eyes. Zhao Chang clicks her tongue and smiles as she turns to Leo. “And you, Leo? How was your summer? Had any romances?”

“It was great!” he starts to tell them. “Mom took me to Barcelona and I’m pretty sure I’m in love with the place. We stayed at one of Mom’s friend’s, Summer Serrano. He’s great and after our stay there we visited London. Old family home somewhere, not very interesting if you ask me. But no. No romances.”

Zhao Chang wiggles her eyebrows. “No pretty boys in Barcelona?”

“And what about your birthday, Leo? Are your throwing a party again?” Marietta asks, her baby blue eyes big and hopeful. She ignores Zhao Chang’s remark.

“Sure, if you can manage to find firewhisky somewhere.”

“You’re the one who’s turning sixteen!”

Leo gives her a look. “Last I checked, you need to be  _ seventeen _ in order to buy the stuff.”

Before Marietta can continue her onslaught, the compartment door opens. Two girls stand in the opening, one blonde and one pink-haired. Leo smiles broadly at them and pats the seat next to him.

“Hi guys,” says Cleopatra Malfoy, a meek smile on her lips. She’s already wearing her Slytherin uniform and next to her, Demeter Thatcher rolls her eyes while she blows an impressive bubblegum bubble. “Demie and I thought it would be nice to join you. Lennon and Monroe are stuck in the compartment with Fred and George. They said they’ll join us soon.”

“That’s fine,” says Marietta, though eyeing both girls with suspicion. Cleo’s a Slytherin, which Leo knows gets on Marietta’s nerves because of her family history, and Demeter is a Gryffindor. Not that Demeter’s House has got to do with anything, though. They just don’t like each other. “We were just discussing Leo’s birthday party.”

“Are you gonna throw one, then?” Demeter asks, whisking away a stray piece of pink hair from her face.

Zhao Chang leans forward conspiratorially. “He says we’ll get firewhisky this time.”

“I never said that!” Leo interjects. He points at Zhao Chang and Marietta. “That’s what you two make of it.”

“You can’t throw a party with just butterbeer, Leo,” says Cleo wisely. “It’s too boring!”

“Cleo, you’re in your Third Year,” Marietta reminds her. “You’re barely fourteen!”

“Yeah, why are they allowed to come, Leo?” Zhao Chang asks. “They’re too young!”

Leo considers this. “Because I dislike excluding anyone?”

“The right answer would be: ‘because you are my friends’,” says Demeter with her arms crossed.

“Piss off, Demie,” says Cleo with a smile. She nudges the Gryffindor with her shoulder. “Leo’s too nice for his own good. By now, everyone knows that.”

Demeter tries her best to hide it, but her cheeks turn pink and her chest starts to swell with pale red clouds. She bites her lip and tries to hide her blush behind her hair, without much success. Leo smiles a little to himself. Demeter’s always cracking her ‘cool girl’-persona around Cleo, who is practically sunshine incarnate. Demeter’s usually pale red and dark indigo turn into a much softer cloud of pale red and lavender, when Cleo is around.

Leo retreats from the conversation, which is now about who would win the Quidditch House Cup this year and since Leo doesn’t care for Quidditch (despite Mom having played as the Ravenclaw Seeker in her years), he thinks it’s smarter for him to keep his mouth shut. He looks out of the window again, before the compartment door opens again, this time displayed a quartet of redheads: Fred and George Weasley, identical in all ways but one; and Lennon and Monroe McGonagall, two generations of the same face.

“Howdy,” says Monroe with a grin on her mouth, squeezing herself between Marietta and Cleo. “We thought, might be fun to join you!”

Her sister, Lennon, looks much less amused by her older sister’s behaviour. She mumbles something under her breath before asking Leo if she can sit next there. He nods with a smile, letting the bordeaux-and-platinum girl sit next to him.

Fred and George Weasley stand to the side of the compartment, identical smirks on their faces. Leo has to look away from George (he knows it’s George because of the two little moles peeking out of his collar, and he doesn’t have a little scar through his eyebrow) or he might blush so hard everyone in the compartment will see the flowers in his chest. Or rather, the fireworks exploding with such intensity that it’s a miracle no one notices.

“We heard something about firewhisky, Leo,” says Fred, crossing his arms over his chest. “How’re you going to get it?”

“I’ll ask Monroe,” he says, sending a look in her direction. Monroe didn’t hear him, however, as she’s too busy tickling Marietta in her side to knock the grumpy expression off the Ravenclaw’s face.

“Right,” says George, “and how will you convince her?”

Leo winks. “As you have yet to find out, I can be very persuasive.”

George sits down next to Lennon and the seat seems to widen to fit them all on. George doesn’t pay attention to it, but only looks at Leo and laughs; it’s the clearest, bell-like laugh Leo’s ever heard; radiating pure white light and golden glitter. His heart skips a beat as he tries to play it off cool, but Lennon makes a face at him to alert him that she’s seen his blushing.

Fred sits down opposite his brother, in between Monroe and Cleo. Cleo immediately starts chattering to him, much to Fred’s disdain — he doesn’t like the Malfoys all that much. He bumps George’s foot and winks at him. Fred’s presence brings a more golden light to the compartment, as opposed to George’s normally silver one, and it’s cheerful and excited.

There’s loads of laughing going on during the ride despite the different Houses they’re all in: Leo, Marietta and Zhao Chang in Ravenclaw; Fred, George, Monroe and Demeter in Gryffindor; Cleo in Slytherin and Lennon in Hufflepuff. Fred and George show off for a little with their new prank supplies (some amazing firework that shot around the compartment for five minutes) and at that point, Lennon decides she’s had enough of the older students and tells Monroe that she’s going to find her Hufflepuff mates — which leaves George sitting right next to Leo.

Leo’s not one to over-analyse himself, but he can’t ignore the snowbells and lillies growing in his chest and the soap bubbles floating around his head when George brushes his pinky finger over his own. The flowers are accompanied by fireworks, the same as the twins set off in the compartment, but silver, glittery, and warm. It smells like something flowery in the compartment when their fleeting touch has ended, and Marietta stares at Leo with her piercing, baby blue eyes.

Slowly, the twilight falls over the landscape in waves, creating a much cozier atmosphere in the compartment, Leo thinks, and he frowns when the trees in the landscape suddenly start to slow down.

“Why are we slowing down?” Cleo asks, clearly having noticed the same thing.

“We're not supposed to be there yet,” says Monroe, looking at her watch. “Another one and a half hour, at least!”

Leo presses his nose to the glass to look outside, while Demeter and Cleo open the compartment door to see what’s going on. Demeter’s Welsh accent sounds clearly through the train, yelling at everyone who sticks their head out to go back inside their compartment and that someone is entering the train.

The glass of the window suddenly start to turn colder and colder, so much that Leo’s nose starts to hurt. He sees something more outside, like a slow-motion capture of freshly cleaned laundry in the wind, and his insides turn into ice. He shuts his eyes as some of the most horrifying images flood his mind, sucking away all of the lillies and snowbells in his chest, making them wilt and die. Leo tries to shut the images out, tries not to think of the large black dog that had chased him when he was really young, or the images of the cave, or the stone walls of a prison…

But as quickly as those images came, they disappear.

“Leo, are you okay?” George asks, shaking him by his shoulder lightly. When Leo opens his eyes and looks at George, he notices that the train is up and running again, searing through the landscape at an alarming speed. George lets out a deep breath when Leo nods. “Blimey, you scared me there…”

“Everything alright here?” an extremely familiar voice asks from the compartment door and as Leo lets his gaze slide there, his heart jumps in his chest: Edwina stands there, her wand out, with a concerned frown on her face. She doesn’t show that she knows him, but looks at him with an even more concerned look. She gives a wave with her wand and a piece of chocolate appears. “Eat this, you’ll feel better. The new Dark Arts teacher instructed me to check every compartment, see who fainted. Are you alright?”

Leo gingerly takes the chocolate and sits upright. He nods, muttering, “Thank you.”

Edwina winks at him.

Monroe pipes up, “Weren’t you expelled?”

Cleo and Demeter start to mutter. Fred and George look at each other, as do Zhao Chang and Marietta. Last year was a tough one for Edwina; someone had let it slide that she was You-Know-Who’s daughter, destroying her reputation. Many students are afraid of her now.

It takes Edwina some effort to put on a smile. “No. It was a misunderstanding.”

“You’re the assistant of the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, right?” Marietta asks. “You started last year, with Lockhart…” Marietta sighs dreamily at the thought of their last professor, while Fred and George act like they’re throwing up.

“That’s right. But you’ll have to excuse me, I have to check on the other kids.” And with that Edwina closes the compartment door and continues her round.

Immediately, Demeter says, “She’s You-Know-Who’s daughter.” She puts on an arrogant face. “Professor Snape told us last year.”

“Quite rude to judge people by their heritage,” says Leo coolly. His insides are still covered in ice. The words are out before he knows. “Aren’t your parents blood-traitors who have been cast out of the Sacred Family Tree?”

Demeter shoots him a dirty, hate-filled look. “Didn’t your mum get locked up for murder, like your uncle?”

“Guys!” Monroe yells. “Stop arguing. The Dementors have no nice effect but that doesn’t mean you get to insult each other. And Leo, eat your chocolate before it melts.”

With a last look at Demeter, Leo puts the piece of chocolate in his mouth and much to his surprise, his chest warms up and the feeling spreads throughout his entire body.

Meanwhile, Demeter stands up from her seat and storms out of the compartment without another word spared.

“Oh, bugger,” says Cleo before she stands up too and follows Demeter. Before she runs off, she peeks her head in the compartment and says, “I’ll see you at the Welcoming Feast!”

Then, both Marietta and Zhao Chang stand up, as well as Monroe. Monroe mutters something about needing to check up on Lennon and the other two girls don’t say anything. This leaves only the twins and Leo, which first causes a small awkward silence, before Fred starts talking.

“They didn’t tell us what the Dementors were here for, but I think we can guess,” he says, eyes dark.

“They were looking for Sirius Black,” says Leo before Fred can finish his sentence. The twins look at him oddly. Leo feels the heat rise to his cheeks. “I mean, it’s the biggest article in the news right now, it’s only logical to come to that conclusion…”

“Leo,” says George, slowly, “you’re a Black.”

“Technically, I’m an Ollivander,” he says quickly. “But Sirius Black—” Leo has to concentrate  _ so much _ not to call him uncle in front of the twins, “—is Hogwarts’ Most Wanted. I’m only thinking logically.”

Fred exchanges a look with George. “Leo, you’re a Black. Sirius  _ Black _ hasn’t contacted you, by any chance?”

“Mom fell out with Sirius years ago,” he lies through his teeth. He’s  _ so _ relieved that neither of the twins ever learned Legilimency. “They haven’t spoken since Mom was sixteen.”

George looks worried. “So your mum—?”

“She doesn’t know anything,” Leo assures, “she only knows he escaped.”

The twins exchange another look. Leo awkwardly looks out of the window, biting his lip to ignore the big, neon red letters above his head that spell ‘liar’ — his guilt complex always works against him. He manages to put on a little smile before he speaks again.

“You two should change into your uniforms,” says Leo, pulling on his own, that he put on before the rest arrived in his compartment. “We’re nearly there.”

Leo stands up and turns his back to the twins, so that they can change into their uniforms without feeling like their privacy is being violated. Leo pokes his finger through the bars of Batman’s cage, muttering to him that he can join the other owls in the Owlery soon enough. Batman is a social little thing and whenever Leo gets mail, Batman spends a little extra time showing off whatever Leo got to the other owls, to show that he’s a good owl who serves his owner well. Leo usually rolls his eyes when Batman’s arrogance is showing.

“Leo, can you tie my tie? I still don’t know how to do it,” George says.

“Yes, of course.” Leo turns a bit red at the request, avoids Fred’s eyes and quickly ties George’s tie while looking at the moles in his neck a little too long. George is a little taller than he is — Leo reaches his nose —, which makes it easy for Leo to make sure George doesn’t see his red cheeks.

They exit the train, Leo with Batman’s cage in his hand, and walk to where the carriages are set in a line in Hogsmeade. Leo winces at the sight of the Thestrals, despite knowing that they are gentle creatures, he still is a bit scared of them.

The carriage ride passes just fine, with the company of Lee Jordan, which means the twins and Lee start to talk about pranks, secret passageways and whatever Professor Dumbledore’s weird welcoming words will be.

“Wouldn’t it be hilarious if he just said the same thing as last year?” George says. Leo remembers that the opening speech of the Headmaster was a bit strange last year, throwing in random words about  _ vigilance _ and  _ care _ and  _ caution _ between every few sentences. “That’ll really confuse the Second Years.”

They laugh about this as they roll up to the castle, where the large doors of the castle open and let the students in. Leo puts Batman’s cage with the other trunks, quickly noticing his own, while the owl hoots thankfully and flies off after affectionately biting Leo’s finger. He tries to find Fred and George, but instead is faced with Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick, the head of his House.

“Good evening, Mister Black!” says Flitwick with a smile under his moustache. He’s a little man, the Charms teacher — Leo should write to Valentine about him, he thinks they would greatly appreciate the help, despite their wish to travel to China to study magic there — and Leo’s mentor.

“Good evening, professor,” Leo answers, smiling but furrowing his brows in confusion. “What’s going on?”

Professor McGonagall looks at him with a look that he got one too many times from Monroe and Lennon; strict but considerate. “The Headmaster wants to speak to you before the feast starts. I need to find Miss Granger and Mister Potter — have you seen them somewhere?”

Leo shakes his head. “No, professor.”

McGonagall tuts and shakes her head, turning around to find Hermione Granger and Harry Potter, who, Leo suspects, have something they need to discuss. Just like he does with Professor Dumbledore, which, no doubt, has to do with Uncle Sirius.

“This is about my uncle, right, professor?” he asks Flitwick, who starts to strut towards the door to the small room next to the Great Hall.

“Yes, I’m afraid so,” he answers. He opens the door using his wand, sending Leo in. “Enjoy the feast, Leo! And good luck!”

“Bye, professor,” says Leo with an excited tone as he watches the door fall closed. He takes a deep breath and walks through Professor Dumbledore’s (and Hogwarts’) with knicknacks filled shelves and closets.

He sees Professor Dumbledore standing next to a magnificent golden statue of a phoenix, long silver beard, purple robe, and half-moon-glasses included. He looks serene, gentle, even, with a small smile gracing his aged lips as he sees Leo approach. He holds out his arms in welcome.

“Hello, Leo,” he says. His voice is calm and sends out a smoke cloud of light blue. “I imagine you’ve had an eventful summer?”

“Only by the end, professor.”

Professor Dumbledore laughs softly. Leo, like with Edwina, can’t quite pinpoint his colours, though it seems only light blue floats past now. “I would imagine so. How was meeting your uncle for the first time?”

Leo doesn’t really know what to say. “Professor, I don’t know what you mean.” Of course Professor Dumbledore knows what’s going on. He’s the head of the Order, after all. “But he was emotional. Ate lots of chocolate. He compared me to Uncle Regulus a few times.”

“As I thought he would,” says Dumbledore. He smiles under his heard. “But that isn’t what I asked you here for. As you might know, it’s speculated that your Uncle Sirius caused the deaths of James and Lily Potter. I am asking you, Leo, to not breathe a word about your uncle to anyone. The students are bound to find out who you are related to.”

“Fred and George Weasley asked me about him in the train,” says Leo. “I told them I knew nothing.”

“That’s a good boy.” Dumbledore’s light blue eyes twinkle happily. “And before I forget, Professor Flitwick has asked if you want to continue your — by the lack of a better term — private lessons this year.”

Leo thinks for a moment. The lessons with Flitwick helped him control the colours, but when he was fully able to shut them out, he found that it was a boring life. So, he shakes his head. “No, professor. I think I’m just fine with how I am.”

“That is good to hear. I will inform Professor Flitwick about your decision.” Professor Dumbledore straightens his back. “Now, go join the feast! I will see you in a minute.”

He winks and Leo.

Leo smiles at him and leaves the room, entering through the normal entrance to the Great Hall at the same time as Harry Potter and Hermione Granger, who makes a bit of a nervous impression.

He doesn’t pay much attention to it as he sits down at the Ravenclaw table, next to Marietta, who sits opposite Zhao Chang. They listen attentively to what Professor Dumbledore has to say, clap for (the now) Professor Lupin and Hagrid, who has taken over the job as the Care of Magical Creatures teacher, formerly given by Professor Kettleburn, who announced his retirement last year.

Then the food finally appears and the students all hungrily attack. Leo eats calmly, trying not to get sauce all over his face as he chats with the other Ravenclaws in his year. He tries to ignore all the prying questions about Uncle Sirius and eventually, he gets so swarmed with them that he just gives up and stuffs his mouth with whatever is on his plate in order not to answer. This makes it so that he gets a myriad of odd looks, but he couldn’t care all that much.

He doesn’t fake his happiness when he can go to the Common Room. He practically sprints across the stairs to the highest tower (Gryffindor claims they have the highest one, but Leo doesn’t believe it) and answers the riddle (“What has an eye, but cannot see?”) and runs to the room he shares with four other boys. Roger Davies, who had just become the Ravenclaw Quidditch Captain, is already there, sitting on his bed. Marcus Belby and Eddie Carmichael aren’t, but Leo thinks they’ll arrive soon. The last in their room, Pim de Waal, is nowhere to be found. Leo didn’t see him at the feast either, and wonders where he is.

However, Leo’s wondering doesn’t last long. After this exhausting day, he can do nothing else but put on his pyjamas and fall asleep on the beautiful bed.

—

The first morning at Hogwarts is usually the worst for Leo. After having spent all summer enjoying colours, he has to concentrate on shutting them off or else he’ll  _ explode _ , so at breakfast, his eyes are glassy and he absentmindedly pokes in his scrambled egg.

“Your head is  _ completely _ filled with Wrackspurts.”

Leo snaps out of his thoughts and looks up from his plate. Across him, a dirty-blonde haired girl with big, pale blue eyes stares at him. She wears radish earrings and a butterbeer-cork necklace, which looks a bit odd if you asked Leo, but he immediately notices how she radiates warmth like the sun, sending out beautiful yellow sunrays and stars. Leo blinks a few times before taking a bite of his egg.

“Sorry, what?” he asks her, mouth full. “Who are you?”

“Luna Lovegood,” she says. Her voice is dreamy, but her eyes are wide and alert. “And your head is full of Wrackspurts. They’re invisible creatures that float in your ear and make your brain go fuzzy.”

“Where do you get that information from?” Leo asks, genuinely interested. This seems to surprise Luna, but she talks about how her dad is the editor of the  _ Quibbler _ , the magazine Mom usually reads. Leo asks her about more, about the conspiracy theories and fantastic beasts.

When the bell rings, Leo bids Luna goodbye and he really wonders why people tease her so much; she’s incredibly intelligent and talks with such poise that it’s hard to believe she’s just twelve years old. Leo makes a mental note that he should talk to her more often.

Leo makes his way down to Hagrid’s Hut, with  _ The Monster Book of Monsters _ tucked under his arm. The book growls every now and then, but is in no way as aggressive as those of his classmates. He walks up to Zhao Chang and Marietta, who hold their books away from their chests — though Marietta’s book manages to get some of her hair between the pages.

The Hufflepuffs shuffle around awkwardly as Hagrid tells them to come closer. He has something special for their first lesson, he says. Something  _ real _ special.

Leo, who loves the magical creatures, eagerly walks forward while softly scratching the furry cover of his book. While he admires the Hippogriffs Hagrid talks about, someone bumps into his elbow.

Suzuki Natsumi, a Japanese girl with broad glasses and lots of moles (who radiates the prettiest shade of pink and the scent of cotton candy), smiles at him and looks over her shoulder. “It’s nearly your birthday,” she says, whispering. She wiggles her eyebrows. “Do we have a location and a time?”

Leo smiles. Natsumi was at his party last year too; she was, aside from Leo, the biggest party animal of them all. She’s a Hufflepuff with a knack for fun and Leo thinks she would be great friends with Fred and George if they ever got talking. He nods and looks over at Hagrid for a second, while Marietta nervously bows before a Hippogriff with a brown complexion.

“The dungeons,” he whispers back. “The ones next to Professor Snape’s classroom. It’s big enough. And let’s say, eight o’clock people can come?”

Natsumi winks at him. “Done. It will be a night you’ll remember for the rest of your life. Your Sweet Sixteen!”


End file.
